


Flight 254

by auroraphilealis (athousandrosepetals)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 04:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13333989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandrosepetals/pseuds/auroraphilealis
Summary: A special broadcast brings the news; a downed plane, three confirmed survivors, and a missing boyfriend for Dan Howell.





	Flight 254

**Author's Note:**

> This year, a few friends and I wanted to do a secret santa for Christmas; however, once again, we ended up having to delay it as we all work/have school/have been incredibly busy, and therefore the presents have gone up past new years instead. Regardless, I want to wish my secret santa recipiant a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year. I love you with all of my heart Sarah ( @sleeplessnightwithphan) and I am so happy to have you in my life. Don’t let your brain ever tell you that I don’t love you. You are beautiful, inside and out, and I really, really hope that you enjoy what I wrote for you <3
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : In no way do I pretend that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

It was just like any other day; Dan was working a nine to five shift at the BBC in the editing department, trying not to cringe at the shoddily drawn together conclusion for the final Sherlock season as he and the rest of the team drew it all together with special effects, music, and careful cutting and pasting of ruined and perfected scenes. His eyes were sore as he saved the final project of what he was working on, and shifted to shut down his computer.

His headphones had barely cleared his head when he heard the news.

_“...reports of a downed plane on the outskirts of Rawtenstall this evening. So far, there have been three reports of survivors, with the rest of the planes occupants assumed dead. The cause of the crash appears to be a blown engine, assumed to be a case of overheating. Flight 254 was arriving from Florida, and witnesses say…”_

But the words stopped processing in Dan’s brain the moment he realized where the plane had been coming in from, and just where it had crashed landed. The flight number meant nothing to Dan, but the destination and the take off location meant the world; Phil Lester, Dan’s long term boyfriend, had been meant for that plane, and there was no doubt in Dan’s mind that Phil had been on it.

It didn’t take long for Dan’s body to go cold. He could feel his eyes going wide as he turned to stare up at the TV screen blasting the news, shaky clips of the plane descending far too rapidly from the sky with black smoke emitting from it’s tail end coating the screen. He couldn’t hear what the news reporter was saying anymore because his mind was too fixated on the fact that Phil had been on that plane, bound for home after he’d been missing on vacation with his family for the last week. All Dan could remember was the fact that so far, only three survivors had been found, and for all that Dan knew, Phil was not one of them.

Dan’s heart seemed to stop beating in his chest for a moment. He could feel his breathing coming in sharp, painful puffs of breath as his legs turned to jelly and gave out underneath him. Dan hadn’t even realized he’d stood until he was on the ground, curling in on himself and tucking his face into his knees in an aborted attempt to protect himself from the news. His fingers fumbled for the phone he knew was in his pocket, but he found he couldn’t pull it free, his fingers slipping and sliding against the screen until Dan realized what the problem was; he was shaking too bad to hold onto _anything_.

It became apparent after a few more seconds of terrified, internal panicking for Dan to realize that it wasn’t all internal; he was crying, tears dripping fast down his cheeks as he breathed in heavily, chest heaving with the force of the emotion rocking through him. He was cold, so fucking cold, and he couldn’t feel his limbs. In the weirdest of ways, Dan felt numb, so, so numb, and more lost and confused than he’d ever imagined he’d be in a situation such as this one.

Phil had been on that plane. Phil had been on his way home, and Dan had thought, no, _assumed_ , Phil would have arrived back at their apartment by now. He’d been so busy editing he hadn’t even thought to check his phone, but he’d felt it go off a few times in a pocket what seemed like only moments ago, and he’d thought - he’d thought - it must be Phil letting Dan know he was home.

But Phil wasn’t home, because that was Phil’s plane on the news, and that was Phil’s life on the line, and that was Dan’s heart and soul descending from his body _because what was he going to do without Phil?_

“...it’s okay, Dan. It’s alright. He might still be alive. You don’t know he’s one of the dead. They said they haven’t finished searching for survivors, they just found another one. It could be _Phil_ , Dan, he might still be alive,” someone was murmuring, the words hard for Dan to understand and even harder for him to process until they weren’t. Dan blinked once, twice, three times, breathing still harsh and rough sobs still choking his body, but he nodded nonetheless to let the person know that he understood, that he was listening, that he’d heard.

Someone’s arms were around Dan’s shoulders, and he realized after a moment that someone had helped him up. He was sitting on one of his legs, the other spread out in front of him, but the position didn’t hurt. In fact, Dan couldn’t feel his legs at all. He just felt dazed, dumbfounded, and devastated all in one, eyes searching desperately for the tv screen so he could check again for himself that what the person in front of him had said was true - but they didn’t let him.

Dan’s co-worker didn’t let him, taking Dan’s face in his hands and forcing Dan to look at him instead.

“Dan. Dan, look at me. Look at me, okay? You need to calm down. You need to relax. You’re going to be okay. Whatever’s happened, you’re going to be okay, but unless you calm down, there’s no way we can get you to the hospital to find out whether Phil is okay or not, so you need to calm down for me, okay?” they asked, eyes stern as they held Dan’s gaze.

Dan didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think he could speak, and when he opened his mouth to agree, he found that nothing came out but another devastated sob. When Sam, or Kevin, or Evan or whoever was in front of him drew him into his arms and held him tight, Dan didn’t even struggle against him. He just let his entire body sag against theirs, and sobbed into the warm weight of their chest.

Phil might be dead. Phil might be dead, and there was nothing Dan could do about it.

**

No one had ever told Dan just how terrifying it would feel to get word that the love of your life might be dead. No one had ever told Dan how it would feel like the rug had been ripped out from underneath you, or prepared him for the total breakdown he’d had as the result of it.

Always one to be dramatic, Dan still hadn’t expected to practically have a panic attack in the middle of his office, and then collapse into his co-workers arms and sob until he was too tired and numb to sob anymore. And yet, at the same time, Dan wasn’t surprised by his reaction at all.

The news had been completely out of the blue, devastating and hard hitting all in one - _only three survivors, the rest presumed dead_. There hadn’t even been a chance for hope from the get go, and it was that thought alone that left Dan feeling justified for his complete and utter break down in the middle of his work room.

But Dan didn’t truly know what was worse; the breakdown, the complete loss of hope, or the feeling of bone deep numbness that had taken over the moment he stopped crying enough to climb to his feet, and head for the hospital where family and friends were being directed if their loved ones had been on flight 254. No one stopped him, but Dan almost wished that they had. Did he really want to show up at the hospital only to find out that Phil was confirmed to be passed away? Did he really want to show up to the hospital and have his hopes dashed all over again after he’d already decided that Phil was dead?

Dan didn’t know, but he knew that he had to, because if there _was_ a chance Phil was alive, Dan wouldn’t miss being at his side for the world.

 _Oh god_ , Dan thought, his hands tight against the leather seats of the taxi he’d caught just outside the office. _Phil’s dead_. The thought alone made another hot surge of _something_ burst through Dan’s chest, and yet the tears didn’t come. Instead, he stared blankly out through the dirty glass of the taxi into the nothing beyond, and wondered, once again, what would become of him without Phil in his life.

His best friend Phil and the love of his life, the man who’d helped Dan through thick and thin, and who’d agreed to marry him at some point in the near future. Philip Lester, who’d taken Dan under his wing in the middle of university when Dan had been _this_ close to dropping out, and Phil had helped him to find the right career for him so Dan’s education wouldn’t be wasted. Phil, the man who watched anime with Dan into the early hours of the morning, and ate popcorn with him that mostly ended up on the floor when they couldn’t help themselves from dissolving into popcorn fights. Phil, who’d kissing Dan all over the first time they’d had sex, and make Dan feel like the most beautiful person in the entire world, and Phil who’d made sure that Dan knew he was more than just a booty call the minute it was all over.

Phil, with his bright blue eyes that swirled with green and yellow that matched his personality so well sometimes Dan felt like he was staring into another world, and his dyed black hair that had once been a mousy brown the same color as his eyebrows, and the crooked smile he had where his tongue poked out between his teeth and he liked to pretend he knew how to smirk. Phil, who couldn’t wink to save his life, and who laughed so bright and loud it was like staring into the sun just to _hear_ him.

Phil, who’d created an entire life with Dan, and who’d kept Dan from ending it all a million times over in the course of only a few years - six to be exact, the seven year mark coming up so fast on them now that Dan couldn’t believe it was even happening.

How could Phil have ever wanted someone like Dan? A mess, who couldn’t even see straight most of the time, who laid down on the carpet sometimes because his thoughts were becoming too much, and forgot how to get out of bed on his day off. Dan, who’d been in therapy for two years now, and who’d been on medication twice as long - a fuck up who was only doing okay now because of _Phil_.

Phil.

Dan had lost Phil.

He never should have let him get on that plane that night.

**

It wasn’t a surprise to Dan when he showed up to the hospital to find the front lawn already packed with bodies, pushing and jostling and wailing in pain as they were delivered the news that their loved ones body had been found and identified, but that they were dead. The scene was utter chaos as Dan jumped out of the car and threw the cabbie too much money, hands going straight for the inside pockets of his jacket as he walked. It was cold, so cold outside, dark as the night descended and the night lights flickered overhead.

There was a psuedo-line, and yet next to no one was in it, all huddled together and either waiting for news… or mourning the inevitable.

Dan held no hope in his heart as he stepped forward towards a haried looking woman with an ear piece in one ear, and a list of passengers with different highlighters in front of her so she could mark who was found, who was dead, and who was inside the hospital just then.

“Name,” the name asked, the second Dan approached her.

“Daniel Howell,” Dan stayed on impulse, only to realized as the woman began scanning down the list of plane passengers that she hadn’t meant _his_ name. “No, no I mean - sorry, I’m Dan. I meant - Phil Lester. Philip Lester,” Dan corrected, trying not to shake as the woman looked up at him in sympathy before turning back to the list in front of her.

Dan couldn’t help himself when he blurted out - “How many? How many survivors, have they - have they found anymore, is it still just - four?”

He couldn’t help the way that he had begun to hope, to beg the world and the universe around him to just let Phil be _alive_ , to please not take him away from Dan so cruelly just yet, because Dan didn’t think he was going to be able to survive it if they did.

The lady looked up at him once more, and shook her head.

“The survivor count is up to seven, now, but we haven’t quit looking. New - new bodies are being found by the minute,” she explained, looking both guilty and sympathetic all at the same time. Dan felt his body sag in on itself, even as he knew that the number growing was _good_ , because seven was only three better odds than what he’d had before, and suddenly, Dan just wanted to throw up.

“But there’s still a chance,” the woman rushed to add, “There’s still a chance he’s alive, sir.”

Dan could only nod numbly in response to her, and looked away as the woman turned back to her list, scanning over the names as quickly as she possibly could.

But Dan was already certain; Phil _must_ be gone.

The woman inhaled sharply, the noise sudden and painful as it sliced through Dan’s heart like a knife. He found himself squeezing his eyes shut, and pitching forward, his hands landing roughly on the portable table the woman had been given earlier, holding himself up with the last little bit of strength he had left, ready and waiting for the news, for the final blow that would take the last bit of wind out of Dan’s sails and send him falling to the ground, hopefully knocked unconscious, hopefully _dead_ -

“He’s alive. Sir, he’s _alive_ ,” the woman said, reaching out with cold hands to press one over each of Dan’s, squeezing tightly as she leaned in close to be heard over the sound of a copter falling in, and the crowd rushing forward to get back into line, to find out who's just been brought in, if there was a name, a face, an identity to put to the new survivor that had surely just been found -

“He’s alive,” Dan repeated, and didn’t know how he managed to walk away.

**

The check in lady who’d given Dan the news had someone escort him inside, where he collapsed on a chair, shaking and silently weeping, and was handed a clipboard to fill in with Phil’s information as he sat through surgery right then.

Surgery. Phil was in surgery, but at least he was _alive_.

They hadn’t told Dan what his prognosis was, but Dan couldn’t help believing it was bad. Somehow, Phil had survived a plane crash, and Dan wasn’t entirely certain if that was lucky or not, but just then, he felt like the luckiest person in the whole wide world, because Phil was _alive_. All Dan could hope now was that Phil was _stay_ alive.

**

“Daniel Howell?”

“Yes?”

“He’s in stable condition, and he’s resting now. The anesthesia should be wearing off soon. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes. Please.”

**

The ICU was a white as Dan had always pictured it, and just as crowded. There were weeping families all around, and the nurses station seemed to be going crazy, but all that Dan cared about then was _Phil_ , and when he found him laid out on a hospital bed covered in bandages and casts and stitches in a white hospital gown, looking far too small for the six foot two man Dan knew him to be, he nearly collapsed on the bed with him and reached out to take his hand.

“Phil,” he whispered, watching as Phil’s eyes flickered open, hazy and unsure, clouded with medication. “You’re alive.”

Phil blinked at him, at a complete loss for words, but Dan didn’t care as he collapsed into the seat at Phil’s side, and leaned in close to bury his face into the sheets at Phil’s side.

“You’re alive,” he said again, and then, “I love you, so fucking much. I’m never leaving your side again.”

Phil still didn’t speak, seeming too confused to do so, and Dan didn’t know what the side effects of this whole event were going to be, but it didn’t matter - not anymore, because Phil was going to survive, and anything else, they’d get through together.

Dan laughed, the sound wet and dazed, and picked up his head to press a tender kiss to Phil’s forearm.

“Never do that again.”

Phil smiled, and he shook his head, but he still didn’t answer as he closed his eyes, and presumably drifted off back to sleep.


End file.
